Colin F. Jones


What happened to all the horses that towed the furrow plough,
That dragged the fallen trees from where we chopped them down
Those hairy hocked monsters with their tails carried high,
That could drag the Earth along if there was a foothold in the sky;
With massive necks arching against the martingale and rein,
Never wilting under heavy loads when the burden was a strain.
They towed gun platforms in world war one again in world war two,
They were ridden by the cavalry; they left behind all but a few.
They were mostly killed for pig food, or for fish bait or left to die,
They were not important any longer men on tractors now relied.
They had served man when he needed him pulling milk floats and dray,
But glorious man in true character turned his back and walked away.
Well I will always remember those horses that were part of my past,
Just as I’ll be part of yours; for like those horses, I will not last.